The Path to Serenity
by MandaMazing
Summary: Eight months had pasted since the defeat of Ozai. Summer had come and gone; winter had fallen; spring was eager to leave. Through those short seasons that past things were just starting to restore themselves. A repair and aid effort was enacted, prisons were freed, soldiers were sent home, the fire nation rebellion was pluck from their root... (full summary inside.)


Summary:

Eight months had pasted since the defeat of Ozai. Summer had come and gone; winter had fallen; spring was eager to leave. Through those short seasons that past things were just starting to restore themselves. A repair and aid effort was enacted, prisons were freed, soldiers were sent home, the fire nation rebellion was pluck from their root, new government officials were elected and peace was growing. The 100 year war over power and control had finally ended. But the war over food and necessities was just beginning. Due to the fire nations destructive and crude war efforts over the past 100 years a large amount of property, land, precious and profitable resources were destroyed. The whole world had slid into a depression. This is a story about growing up trying to fix the world.

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A/N:

This story has been sitting on my computer for almost a year and I haven't touched it. This will probably be the shortest chapter in the story. Today I figured I might as well post it and start writing again. If you see a change in style that is why. This is mostly going to be a Toph centric story. It's going to be a very, very, very, very long story. I'm hoping that I improve my writing by writing so much, ha. Anyway I'm trying to write this as if ATLA was written into a book for a slightly older audience. This is going to be a love story so if you were hoping it wasn't going to be I'm sorry to disappoint. I'm also unsure about who Toph is going to end up with. I just cant decide; maybe help me make up my mind?

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The Path to Serenity

Chapter One

It was nearly late spring when the flying bison finally reached his destination. Light filled the wide horizon and made the snow blinding. The water was still and sat against the outer sides of the village. The small group would be spending six months in this frozen wasteland; the longest they would stay anywhere on their three year journey.

Due to the destructive nature of the war many villages and nations were left burned and resource deprived. Many of the corrupted officials still sat in office. Money meant nothing in most villages and food was scarce. Many people were starving, sick and lived without even the most basic necessities. Aang took notice. After the first month spent at the fire nation capitol Aang realized that this was not where he was meant to be. Giving orders and resolving petty problems while larger problems hung just outside of his reach was not something he liked. Aang began planning, along with the the other war heroes. It was a long and confusing processes that took months to configure. Late nights and early mornings were spent figuring out each and every detail.

They would spend three years traveling the world, building back cities, aiding the relief effort and restoring order back in the world, starting at the southern water tribe. This was their new adventure.

Sokka was actually the one to come up with the grand scheme of things. The first few months after Zuko became Fire Lord Sokka began creating ideas for cities. Ideas that could repair, improve and further better the cities of most nations. His once small sketch and note pad had became a full fledged novel he lugged around. A book of over ten thousand pages of ideas and sketches; it was hell to carry around. The plans he had for his home, his birth place were is most prized though. He valued them over the whole rest of the book. It took him four months just designing the bridge in the city center. One third of the book was just dedicated to the southern water tribe. In fact the last three weeks they spent traveling on Appa he was still completing plans.

When the large flying bison landed on the fresh power of the spring day a large blanket of snow lifted from the ground and covered the riders. The rides stood shaking off all the wet flakes, stretching in the process, and grabbed their bags. They went in order, from closet to the edgy to furthest, each gently jumping off Appa's back. The last rider to escape Appa's perch was a young girl. She clutched the boy's arm as he guided her to the edge of the bison. He then, in one swoop, lightly pushed her allowing her to fall into the arms of the air bender. She was frustrated with the whole situation; the others just laughed. He caught her with ease and set her down lightly, allowing her to gain her footing back. Sokka and Aang both gained another bruise from her that day.

As the group make their way into the village they could see the outline of the villagers all waiting for them. A man, the leader of the southern water tribe, stood front and center watching the small group travel towards him.

There was a young girl. She was smaller than the rest of the group. Her feet were barely the size of a dime. She was the porcelain doll that all the little girls would love to take home. Her face was framed with tuffs of fur, the same soft color as her face. Her nose and lips were red and raw from the bite of the air. Her lips were chapped and broken in interesting designs. Her face was still round; she must have been no older than thirteen. She looked so soft but her scowl warned you for the difference. She was defiantly not from any of the poles. If her skin and features didn't give it away, her dress sure did. Though it was blue and did carry water tribe patterns it didn't look like any water tribe dress he'd ever seen. It was just bought; it was brand new, stiff and most likely uncomfortable. Water tribe symbolism ran down the middle of her chest and across her small waist. Her dress was tight around her chest and belled out out the bottom. Fur covered the ends of her skirt and arms. Thick coarse yarn kept the pieces together. Her boots were even more odd than her dress. Far as he could tell they went past her knees and were laces instead of the easy to slip on boots like most of the villagers had. She held tight to the young man next to her, too tight even, like she was holding on for dear life. He didn't know it yet, but she was. She had changed too much for him to recognize her.

There was a young man. He glided with her as they walked. He could barley leave a foot print even if he wanted to. She called him twinkle toes for a reason. He was dressed so cool; he always looked so _cool_. He was still dressed in those light, bright and airy clothes he always wore. The outside weather had no effect on his skin; being born an air nomad his skin had grown accustom to all types of weather. There always was a radiant heat coming off this young boy, now only thirteen. He seemed to warm and sooth every room he walked into. His most fantastic feature though had to have been his eyes. Not his eyes specifically but they way he used them. He had those kind of rare personal eyes, so deep you felt like you were looking into the past and future all at the same time; it was like staring into the eyes of god. With those eyes he gave the most adoring looks. The way he would looked at you was the way you wanted to be looked at; it was kind, generous, beckoning. He matched his foot steps to hers making sure to reassure her every step with his. He carried both his and her bags, hers being just or maybe even lighter than his. He recognized this young man, he knew he was the avatar. The guy dating his daughter.

Now the oldest male in the bundle stood out, it may have been due to his height or even his ponytail, but he defiantly stood out. The way he walked was defiantly _different._ His stride was in between a prowling jaguar-lion and an otter-penguin. Just by the way he walked you could tell a lot about him; he was goofy. Just plain goofy. He was still in that awkward phase of adulthood and childhood. He was lanky and lean; still attractive but in a really odd way. The man couldn't help to smile; he had missed his children greatly. Though this young man came off as pretentious and rude a lot of the time he was a good and kind person. His heart was probably one of the most attractive things about him. If it wasn't for the fact he was running, tackling and sobbing he would have helped Toph into the village. He did feel a tad guilty about not lending a hand though. He was just too excited to care.

He then saw his daughter. She was even more beautiful then he remembered. She reminded him of her mother so much; it made his heart heavy and happy at the same time. He could see her large blue eyes miles away, they were enchanting. Her hair was lighter and her skin was darker than he remembered, the time she spent in the fire nation obviously had taken its toll. She was obviously becoming more of a woman; she had more and more curves. He hated it. He had missed a lot of her growing up and seeing her as a woman made him heavy heated. He couldn't help but feel guilty. As she trotted towards him he began to tear up.

It was a very pretty picture, that whole scene. A village waiting for their heroes to return; a father waiting for his children to come home. The two young watertribe natives tackled their father to the ground; laughed, cried, and even rolled around in the snow. They hadn't seen their father in at least nine months and before that, a year. You could feel the love and joy radiate off of them. Toph almost felt nauseated just by what she could hear; it was just too sweet. Sokka and Katara didn't even notice how ruined and tattered their old village still looked until they looked out of their fathers eyes. A small intake of breath was heard.

Nothing had changed in the village over the past year or two. Sokka's tower, which he took so much pride in, was still destroyed; the tents were just as tattered if not more than before and the walls looked as threatening as a Panda Lilly. There were less than fifteen people there; a less amount of people that were there when Sokka and Katara left with the avatar. Neither off them had the courage to ask what may have happened to them. Both of their stomachs were in knots. Here, in that small worn village, is where a brand new adventure will begin.


End file.
